"Thank you," I said politely and put the revolver back into my purse. I was more amused than stunned by what I was told. It wasn't a surprise that Lizzie had knowingly gotten herself in trouble.
The poor man's finger was spared. Giulio exhaled in relief when the commotions echoing from the end of the hall were heard.
Wesley's brows furrowed. He drew his gun and peered through the ajar door.
Carefully closing the door behind him, he said calmly:
"Cops are down the hall."
I raised my brows. I didn't enjoy seeing a glimmer of hope on Giulio's aged face. He must have thought I was distracted or overly concerned about the cops. Not so sneakily, he attempted to stand up, believing I would overlook his daring feat. Once more, he found himself facing the gun barrel.
"Sit still." I ordered.
Two young men rushed in. They must be the new hires that Lindley had mentioned since I hadn't seen them before, and I couldn't blame them for hadn't learned their places yet.
"Put your gun down, Miss." The pale, blond, curly-haired one said. His face was exquisite like a French bisque doll, and his cheeks rosy with youth. Though I couldn't tell how young he was, I saw a child in him. A child with an unsteady hand, holding onto his favorite toy as a boy. Only now, that toy could kill a man.
"Where's Lindley?" I asked.
"Put your gun down." He repeated. His partner sheepishly avoided me as if there was some information that he had unintentionally forgotten to mention to him.
I pursed my lip. I shot the helpless man in front of me. The trigger clicked, and his head jerked back. The brown cabinet behind him was painted with a new shade of red. I heard the fresh-faced, sparse-mustached cop mumble God under his breath. I wondered if his God was the same one I prayed to every night.
They handcuffed me and told Wesley to step out of the way. The man I brought along threw his hands and shook his head nonchalantly. The determined youths were displeased with the apathy we exhibited. They waited for the man, whom, if they had had any admiration for him, would soon expire.
Sergeant Lindley walked in with a pipe. When I first met him, he smoked regular cigarettes like the rest of us. He was young once, just like his subordinates. Now he smoked a pipe as if it brought him some authority and honor that he imagined he'd have. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't recall his first name. He had told me twice, and all I could remember was that it started with a G.
Gerald, Gregory, or George. It could've also been Gavin.
"What the hell is this?" He frowned. His thick, dark eyebrows tied together like a knot. "Let her go."
"Sir, she shot our suspect." The doll-faced one said not so gingerly.
"I said let her go. Do you know who the hell she is?" Lindley said impatiently. He held that pipe close to his mouth as if it was a weapon. "That's Thomas Murphy's wife. Uncuff her."
The no longer naïve officer swallowed. He didn't dare to look at me when I smiled at him. Everyone in this line of work in this county knew it was only wise not to mess with a particular name.
"Sorry miss –" he apologized like a lamb, "– ma'am."
"Sure," I said. "What's your name?"
"McGrath," he said, then added, "Charles McGrath, but everyone calls me Charlie."
It'd be reasonably ironic if I were to tell him that I wasn't to be feared, and I certainly thought about doing so. Lindley grunted. He would do that when he was late for something he was supposed to be on time for.
"Why did you kill him?" He asked. "We wanted him."
"He knew too much." I adjusted my hat so the brim would be at an angle. "Did Thomas send you here?"
"No." He smacked his lips. "We got a tip. I was surprised it wasn't him."
"You are going to tell me who tipped you off." I demanded. "And when you call, you'll ask for me."
He nodded half-heartedly. I wasn't worried. He knew the protocol well. That knot on his forehead wasn't in any hurry to loosen. Then he noticed my companion, whom he pointed with the bowl of his fancy pipe:
"Who the hell is that?"
"A friend." I said before turning to Wesley. "Don't mind the old Lindley."
Lindley scoffed. He narrowed his beady eyes and paced up to my company, measuring him up and down.
"You look familiar." The not-so-old man said. "Ah, I know who you are. You are Wesley Lee, aren't you? You have a mind like a devil and a face like a villain but the judgment of a fool. I thought you were dead."
The sergeant looked back at me, seeking approval for his mockery. I didn't appreciate his effort.
"That's enough," I made my way to the door. "I'll tell Thomas you sent greetings."
Lindley laughed.
"You never fail to amaze me." He pointed his pipe at me. "How can someone so soft-spoken like you be such a nasty piece of work?"
I slowed down purposefully when I passed Charlie. He was staring at his feet like a scolded child. However, as I lingered, he timidly and cautiously batted his eyes at me. Was it a faint blush I saw? I smiled at him and wondered if he had noticed it.
He reminded me of the man I used to know.
-----
"What are you going to do to the boy?" Wesley asked as he drove.
"Nothing really." I shrugged. "Though I'd like to test something out for myself with him."
He slammed the brake, and the car suddenly stopped in the middle of a busy street. In Downtown, at midday.
I was terrified. Not because we had blocked the road but because he decided to act uncharacteristically reckless.
"Please," I said, "we are in the way."
"Listen," he sounded flustered, "why don't you leave? You can still leave. I'll help you in any way I can. I'll even go with you, and you can take …."
"You're talking nonsense." I cut him off. "You aren't my brother, and I've never asked you to act like one. Besides, I'm Thomas Murphy's wife."
"Thomas Murphy's wife." He mimicked my tone and scorned. "You recite that like it's a line from the bible. You say that when you don't want to lie."
"Please." I stared straight ahead. I was rather proud of how unbothered I sounded. "For the love of God, Wesley, drive."
-----
"Why couldn't you keep your mouth shut?" Sue held my hand in hers and sighed. She was a couple of years older than me, and though with a distinct accent, she spoke the best English out of all the girls in the Red Lantern House. It was only natural that she became a close and only friend of mine. "Look what's happened to you! Mr. Wang will kill you if you keep talking back."
"But it's not right!" I protested. I laid face down on a hard bed. The whip wounds on my back forbade me from lying on my back.
"They say your virtues are ruined, and you've got these rebellious ideas because a white woman brought you up." Sue shook her head. "True or not, you must learn to obey and do what you're told if you want to live."
"But…"
"You can't expect Mr. Wang to let you run errands and do chores forever." Sue squeezed my hand and lowered her voice. "You know what we do here."
"But Mr. Lee said…."
"Listen to me." She cut me off in frustration. She was about to say something but ended up swallowing her words. Eventually, she said: "Mr. Lee isn't here all the time, you know. Plus, you shouldn't think he's a nice man just because he's been nice to you."
"Did you say that because of the rumor?" I was quick to defend the man who decided to take me in, while others saw me as a burden to this place.
"Anne…" Sue squeezed my hand harder. I could see pity in her eyes.